


Slowly, Surely (we fall)

by immortaIized



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alaska, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Clay | Dream is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Enemies to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, George is Dreams boss, M/M, Marriage Proposal, No Smut, The Proposal AU, Vacation, Weddings, they arent streamers, theyre literally idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29276331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortaIized/pseuds/immortaIized
Summary: George, a powerful editor, faces being deported back to his birth country, and in a plight to remain a legal citizen lies he's getting married to his hopeless assistant Dream. Dream agrees, with his job on the line, to pretend to be his fiance, and they end up having to fly to Alaska and pass off as lovers.What could go wrong?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based off The Proposal (2009) starring Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds! its a good movie so i recommend it if you havent watched it before, anyways thanks for reading!!

Dream shifts in his bed, trying to adjust from the sunlight streaming in, when his sleep-ridden brain supplies that it should be too early for the sunlight to be splaying all through his room. 

He sits up in his bed and checks his clock, only to see it flashing twelve in the morning, so he could only assume the power had gone out and come back, messing with his alarm. He grabs his wrist watch only to see he’s 45 minutes past his alarm.

_ His boss is gonna kill him _

He rushes out of bed and throws himself into the shower, flying through his morning routine. He doesn't spend too long contemplating life choices, and how he got himself into such a hell filled situation. He brushes his hair, teeth, and throws on his suit that he had laid out the night before, barely managing to slip his shoes on before leaving. 

Rushing out the door, with his tie still half done, and his suit jacket clung to his arm, he makes his way to the starbucks across the street, and walks in only to be met with a line longer than he had any time for. It was his luck that the barista, who’s name he can't really remember, had pre made his order, and had shaved off minutes off the time it would have taken him.

“Clay! Hey, here's your order,” the barista says, greeting him with a bright smile. Dream grabs the two coffee cups, ignoring the annoyed glares from the other patrons, the barista finishes with a bright, “your regular lattes!” 

“You’ve literally saved my life, thank you so much.” Dream flashes a smile before turning around and rushing out the door.

He manages to make it to his workplace in under 15 minutes, running through the doors and shoving himself into the elevator, startling the other workers inside. 

“Everyone okay?” Dream asks, panting and visibly out of breath. His co-workers murmur low responses, and Dream mutters out a sheer, “Me too.”

He walks through the main lobby of his floor, and the secretary greets him and tells him he cut it close, to which he turns and responds, “yeah, one of those days.” 

And as soon as he thought ‘one of those days’ couldn't get any worse, he runs into somebody and spills one of the cups of coffee all over himself and his shirt. 

It burns, but most importantly his shirt is covered in coffee stains, he yells and swipes the dripping hot coffee off his shirt. His boss was going to be here any second, and he knows the second he walks in and he’s seen with a coffee stained shirt he’s doomed.

He storms over to where his coworkers are sitting.

“I need the shirt off your back, literally” He demands from one of his coworker friends.

“What?” his coworker, Sam asks, giving him an eye up and down, “the hell happened to you?”

“Long story,” Dream begins, but Sam doesn't look convinced, “Yankees, Boston, this Tuesday, two company seats for that shirt. You have 5 seconds to decide.”

He begins to count down, keeping an eye on the door for when his boss would inevitably arrive, and he would have to scramble to put something over his shirt. 

Sam gives in, and Dream catches workers on the floor scrambling to look like they’ve done something of importance. He catches his breath, as he sees a text to the floor, “It's here.”

Dream scrambles to a bathroom and throws the new shirt on, and hands his stained one to Sam. brushing himself on he readjusts the new tie and walks out, making his way to his bosses office, where he would start his day.

He makes it there and sets the coffee down, before fiddling with his tie again, and praying to whatever gods were listening that his day would only go up from here.

Then his boss walks in, and Dream almost scowls and the visible pretentiousness from the man walking in. George Henry Davidson, the head editor at the Ruike & Hand newspaper company. A real pleasure to work with, he's demanding, entitled, doesn't take no for an answer, scares the entire floor, and someone Dream would personally enjoy punching in his perfectly smug face.

“Good morning boss!” Dream hands over the coffee, “You have a conference call in thirty minutes.”

“Yes about the spring book fair, I know.” the man grabs his coffee, not giving him a second glance and sits down at his desk.

“Staff meeting at nine.”

“Did you call… um, ugh, whats her name? The one with the- the ugly hands.”

“Janet?”

“Oh, yes! Yes Janet.” 

Dream nods, “Yes I told her if she didn't get her manuscript in we wouldn't give her a release date. Also your immigration lawyer called, he said that its imperative-”

“Okay cancel the call, push the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets. Oh, and get a hold of PR and tell them to start planning a press release, Frank is doing Oprah.” George lists off, and Dream fights to stop himself from physically scowling.

He runs the list of things of things to do in his head again, making mental notes to complete all the tasks George had just asked him to do.

“Wow. Nicely done.” Dream raises his eyebrows, and turns to the other side of the room. He sees out of the corner of his eye, George scowl, “If I wanted your praise I’d ask for it.” and he picks up the coffee and takes a sip.

Dream is on his way out of the office when George stops him.

“Um, who is- who is Jillian?” George asks him, and Dream furrows his eyebrows as he looks at him. He doesn't know a Jillian.

George continues, “And why does she want me to call her?” and Dream looks at the cup, only to see the barista from this morning had written her number and a note on the cup. Dreams mouth drops open a little and George gives him an all knowing look.

“Well, um, that was originally my cup.”

“And I'm drinking your coffee why?”

“Because your coffee spilled.” Dream sighs, and his shoulders drop slightly at the biting remark he is sure to receive.

George nods, but doesnt say anything as he slowly takes a sip of the drink, and Dream waits for the man to finish, tense from whatever the man was undoubtedly going to tease him for. 

Dream looks around, and George clears his throat before wondering out loud, “So, you drink unsweetened, cinnamon, light soy, lattes?” 

“I do… it's like christmas in a cup,” Dream replies and winces at the smirk George wears.

“Is that a coincidence?” George asks, voice innocent, even though Dream knows the man is toying with him, Dream looks away.

“Incredibly it is,” Dream scoffs, “I mean, I- I wouldn't possibly, ever think of drinking the same- the same coffee as you, just in case, in case yours spilled! That would be, uh… pathetic.” The phone rings and as Dream is stammering out a lame reply, he makes his way over to the phone and as he finishes picks up.

“Morning! Mr. Davidson’s office… Hey Bob,” Dream answers, and George turns in his chair, giving Dream an all knowing smirk, before waving at him, signaling to let Bob know they're on their way to his office, “Actually, we are on your way to your office right now.” he hangs up and looks at George.

“Why are we headed to Bob’s office?” Dream asks him, and George only tsks before turning to the work on his desk, excusing him, and Dream walks out the door before texting the floor’s group chat.

‘He's moving’ 

He hits send, and watches the chaos unfold as workers fling themselves on their desk to look productive, Dream stands up and meets George as he walks out. 

He gives George a questioning look, to which he is ignored, and they continue to walk towards Bob’s office.

“Did you read the manuscript I gave you?” Dream asks, hoping for some constructive criticism, or maybe a kind word or two.

“Yeah, I read a couple of pages. I was unimpressed.”

Dreams heart drops, not that he really cared what George thought of him. To which he scoffs at himself, of course he cares what his boss thinks of him, it was his dream to become one of the editors on the floor. 

“Can I say something?” 

“No.” and Dream promptly ignored him and keeps going.

“I’ve read countless of manuscripts and this is the only one I've ever given you, there's an incredible novel inside, the kind of novel you used to publish.”

“Uh, wrong,” They look over at Sam, whos smiling at them with a coffee stained shirt, “and I do think you buy the same coffee as I do incase it spills, which is, in fact, pathetic.” George bites, and Dream can't help the sting he feels.

“I think it's impressive,”

“I’d be impressed if you didn't spill it in the first place,” George tells him, and Dream rolls his eyes almost imperceptibly, they turn a corner to Bob’s office and George speaks up again reminding him, “You're just a prop, not a word.”

“Yup.” Dream nods and ducks his head, as they step into the office. Dream smiles at the man sitting at his desk, and George nods at him before moving to the chair in front of him.

“Ah! Our fearless leader and his liege, please makes yourselves comfortable.” Bob smiles at them, and gestures to the chair George had approached. George smiles before looking around the room, he complements the shelf that sat at the far corner of the room and Bob happily supplied with more than enough information any of them wanted. 

“Bob... I'm letting you go.” George says, turning around and leaning on the shelf they had been making small talk on, and looking at Bob, who’s eyes were blown wide and mouth had dropped open.

Dreams eyebrows raised, and he looked at George before looking back at Bob.

“Um, why?”

“I asked you to get Frank to do Oprah ten thousands times, and you never did it. You're fired.”

Dream inconspicuously closes the door, and nervously shuffles his feet. Caught in an awkward situation. 

“I have told you, it is impossible. Frank hasn't done an interview in twenty years.” Bob argues, smiling, although Dream can tell he’s fuming.

“Well that’s quite interesting, because I just got off the phone with him, and he’s agreed to do it. So, maybe you didn't push hard enough.” George bites back, eyebrows raising, as if he’s threatening Bob to challenge him.

“Excuse me?” Bob looks at George as if he just flew in from a spaceship.

“Did you even bother to call him?” George asks, and Bob goes to make a remark but George cuts him off, “I know, I know. Franks a scary guy for you.” George says, with a patronizing smile, “now. I’ll give you two months to find another job, and then I'll tell everyone you resigned.” George walks over and grabs one of the books of the desk, before handing it to Dream who flips through it and follows George out the door.

They're making their way back down the hallway, when George asks him what Bob is currently doing, “He’s moving... he has crazy eyes.” Dream relays.

“Don't do it Bob, please don't do it.” George murmurs under his breath, as Bob walks out into the hallway.

“You poisonous son of a bitch!” Bob yells, causing George to stop in his tracks and the entire floor to gasp, Dream looks at Bob, “You can’t fire me!” 

“Yo-you don't think I can't see what you're doing here? Sandbagging me on this Oprah thing so that you’d look good for the board? Because you… are threatened by me!” Bob continues, and George laughs a little, watching Bob air out his frustrations to the entire floor.

“You are a monster!” 

“Bob, stop.” George tells him, voice amused as if Bob is only stroking his enormous ego, not trying to break him.

“Just because you don't have a semblance of a life outside of this office, you think you can treat all of us in this godforsaken office as your own personal slaves.” Bob snarls, to which George only smiles and fiddles his fingers.

“You know what, I actually feel sorry for you. You know why? Because the only thing on your deathbed is going to be nothing, and no one.” 

Dream presses his lips together, and looks away from Bob and stares a hole into the ground. 

George sighs, “Listen Bob. I didn't fire you because I feel threatened by you, no.” Bob’s eyebrow’s raise and he looks to the office workers, “I fired you because your lazy, entitled, incompetent, and you spend more time cheating on your wife than you do in your office. And if you say another word, Clay here is gonna have you thrown out of your ass.”

Bob goes to interrupt, but George speaks up before he can, “Another word! And you're going out of here with an armed escort and Clay is going to film it with his phone, and post it all over social media, especially that stupid internet site, what was it called?” George directs the last question to Dream, who looks up and supplies him with youtube, before turning back away.

“Is that what you want?” George threatened, and when Bob stays quiet he knew he has his answer, “Good, now, I have work to do.

With that he turns and walks away, Dream following closely behind.

“Have security move his fancy shelf to the conference room, and clear out some time this weekend to read through his files and manuscript.” George demands and Dream begins to stammer out a protest to the sudden engagement.

“This weekend?”

“You have a problem with that.” George challenges, and Dream takes a step back from the cold eyes staring at him.

“No! No, it was just my grandmother's 90th birthday so I was gonna go home,” Dream explains, but half way through George loses interest and walks into his office, “It’s fine, fine. You're actually saving me from a weekend of misery anyways, so… uh, good talk.” Dream finishes lamely, noticing he isn't talking to anyone and nods to himself before walking to his desk.

“Hi mom, yeah, hey! It's been a while, I know I've been busy. With work and life and all that, listen… I'm gonna have to rain check on grandma's birthday, uh no! No it's nothing bad I just, I have to work over the weekend. Yeah dad’ll be pissed but I’ve worked too hard for this, no. no. I'm not going to-” He notices George walking over to him and quickly ends the call, before slamming down on the receiver and turning over to him. 

“Was that your family?” George mused, and Dream looks up at him before nodding, “mmm, they tell you to quit?”

“Every single day.” Dream sighs, and picks up the now ringing phone before George could say anything. 

“Bergen and Malloy want to see you in their office immediately.” Dream relays, crossing his arms on his desk and scratching his head. He knows George always hates going to meet with them, his superiors often berating him about his workplace relationships.

George groans and drops his head into his hands, before muttering a few curses under his breath that Dream can only assume he wasn't supposed to hear.

“Come get me in ten minutes, we have a lot to do today and I cant have fucking Bergen and Malloy taking up all my time.” George tells Dream, before storming off to the direction of the office leaving Dream behind.

As George makes his way down, he fixes up his tie and straightens his blazer out a little, before stepping into the office and swiftly greeting the two men sitting at the desk.

“George! Congratulations on the Oprah thing, very impressive!” Bergen greets and George thanks him before making a coy remark about his pay raise, and taking his seat.

“George, do you remember, when we agreed you wouldn't go to the London bookfair. Because, well, you aren't allowed out of the country.” Bergen sets a paper down and swivels a little on his chair, George presses his lips together, trying to pull the memory up but he wasn't quite grasping it, finally Bergen explains it was during the time his visa was being processed, and the memory comes back to him in detail.

“Yes! Yes I do.” 

“And you went… to London.”

“Yes we were going to lose one of our most important writers to a competitor, and I couldn't let that happen so I went to make sure of that.” George chuckles awkwardly, and wrings his hands together.

“Well it seems as though, the United States Government doesn't care who publishes who.” Bergen snaps, and Malloy takes over.

“George we, uh, just spoke to your immigration attorney-”

“Great! So, everything’s good, all cleared up?” George looks at Bergen and then Malloy.

“George your Visa application has been denied.” Bergen tells him bluntly, and George’s eyes widen significantly. 

George stammers and furrows his eyebrows, before Bergen states, “George, you're being deported.”

“Deported?” George balks.

“Apparently there was also some overdue paperwork,” Malloy tells him, and he scoffs before looking at them like they have bright purple paint all over their faces.

“Come on, I'm not even- I'm from england for god’s sake, there has to be something we can do, right?”

“There are options, we can re-apply for the visa but you would have to leave the country for a year to do so.” Malloy supplies shrugging his arms as if Georges entire world wasn't crumbling right this minute. He huffs and crosses his arms. He stands up, slowly, and looks at the men in front of him.

“Okay, um. That's fine I can run my office from London, no worries!” George laughs, but it tapers off as he grows more nervous.

“Unfortunately, George, if you’re deported, you can’t work for an American company.” Malloy tells him, and George was very close to choking him out right then and there. 

“Until this is resolved, I'm going to turn operations over to Bob Spaulding.” Bergen explains, and George feels himself go lightheaded.

“Bob Spaulding? The guy- the guy I just fired?” 

“We needed an editor in chief, and Bob is the only man in this building near qualified for the position.”

George, in a desperate attempt to keep is job and his pride, beings to plea with the men in front of him, but they stop him.

“George, as much as we would love for you to stay, if there is any way that you could fix this, and that we could figure it out i would help you. But unfortunately we have no other option.” Bergen explains, and George chokes out broken complaints before their interrupted by the door swinging open.

Dream walks in at exactly the ten minute mark, not too early, not too late. Bergen looks at him, and stops him while telling him he is interrupting a meeting, but Dream butts in anyways and tells George some bullshit story about mary whos on the line, and that they need something, but that George is engaged with some other meeting, when Dream finishes, he gestures to George to follow him out, but George stops. He squints, and looks at Dream before looking back at Bergen, before looking back at Dream.

Dream’s stomach churns, the look on George’s face was nothing but trouble. George turns back to Bergen, before gesturing for Dream to meet him, pointedly throwing a finger down. Dream raises an eyebrow, but obliges and makes his way over to where George is standing.

“Gentlemen, I understand that we are stuck at a crossroads. Uhm, but I have something to tell you guys.” George laughs, awkwardly and shuffles backwards as Dream meets him.

“Uh,” George sighs and awkwardly pats Dream on the chest, “We are- we’re getting married.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George scrambles to convince both the immigration official and Dream that they're getting married, Dream is a dear in headlights, and the immigration officer isnt having it.
> 
> Good think they're good liars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter im sorry, but a quick update so i hope that makes up for it, hope you guys like it!! :]

“We are what?” Dream hisses, looking at George as if he had just murdered his entire family.

“Getting married! Yes…” George tapers off, prodding Dream to play along and so he does.

“We are…” Dream looks at them and George finishes for him, “Getting married, yeah, so uh…”

Bergen and Malloy look at them, unconvinced but unsure of whether it was their place to say anything, and they pointed at Dream, before Malloy asks, "Isn't he uh, your secretary?”

“Assistant-”

“Executive, um- assistant secretary, uhm titles, whatever.” George waves a hand and chuckles, “But it uh, wouldn't be the first time, ha! One of us, fell for our secretaries, wouldn’t it.” 

Malloy glares at him, and Dream knows George struck a nerve, "But uh, you know it's not important, I mean, well we weren't supposed to fall in love,” Dream physically recoils at the bullshit spewing from Georges mouth, “but uh, late nights at the office, and uh, we spend so much time together.”

“No, I mean yeah, I mean-”

“And the weekend book fairs, you know, ha ha… Something sure happened, yeah it, happened”

“Something…” Dream mumbles and George elbows him, “ow!”

“We tried to fight it, but uh, cant, you really can't fight, a love like ours.” George hugs him awkwardly and leans forward as if to kiss him on the cheek but catches himself, Dream unsure of what to do, awkwardly turns his head but George had already let go. He smiles, and puts his hands in his pockets, before Bergen gives them a congratulations. 

“You’ll have to get it cleared with the immigration office, you know that of course.”

“Yeah! Yeah, we are planning to go today actually, yup in the books, right Clay?”

“Yeah, yeah we were supposed to go.” Dream stammers and fumbles over the lie.

George thanks the two men, and drags Dream out of the room by the arm, but before Dream could ask what the hell happened, George was storming ahead of him, and he followed while getting incredulous looks from his coworkers.

They step into George's office, and George sits at his desk, but doesnt make any move to explain to Dream what had just happened, he stares at George, who was shuffling through papers, before asking, “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“The whole, we’re getting married scene, uh, care to explain?”

“They were going to make Bob chief.”

“So naturally, I have to marry you,” Dream cocks an eyebrow and rests on the table nearby.

George looks up at him, “What's the problem, not like you were dating anyone. Unless the girl at the coffee shop’s your girlfriend? Or is your masculinity too fragile for you to imagine yourself dating a man?”

“No! I uh, just, uhm, it's illegal.”

“They aren't going to find out, besides it's not like they're going to be paying too much attention. I’m a book editor not a terrorist.”

“Some people in this office would disagree.” Dream mutters to himself. 

“George.” Dream really didn't want to do this, if they got caught he was going to be dragged downed with him, and he really didn't need that on his record, “I'm not going to marry you.”

“Yes you will, because if you dont… all your dreams and hopes of being a book editor are down the drain.”

Dream scoffs, of course George would blackmail him, the only person the selfish bastard cared about was himself.

“Bob is going to fire you the minute I'm out of here, it's almost guaranteed. This means all the time you spent with me is useless, because what use does it serve you if you're on the street eating shit.” George explains, and Dreams mouth drops open as he weighs his options. He really only logically had one, but the idea of having to be around the man in front of him made him reconsider.

“Listen we do it, wait the required amount of time, then get a divorce, it'll be quick and clean!” George explains, talking down to Dream as if he was some child who didn't understand, but before he could protest George was getting up and leaving.

“Where are you going?”

“The immigration office, obviously.” George responds, waving at him to follow.

He moves to follow George, and as they make their way to the entrance of the building, George hails a cab. They reach the immigration office in 35 minutes of excruciating silence, even though the cab driver starts small talk George shuts it down pretty quickly.

They walk into the immigration office and Dream heads to stand in the long line, but George walks up to the front and cuts off the lady who was about to go.

“I need you to file this fiance visa, please.”

The receptionist looks at him, then looks at Dream who shrugs, he frowns and opens up the file before reading out George’s name, he then gestures to follow him, and he leads them into a separate office. 

Another man is sitting at the table, middle aged, short, and Dream can already tell he is going to be a pain in the ass.

“Please, sit down.” The man gestures, and Dream reads the sign on his desk  _ Dustin Beringer. _

George and Dream move over to sit in the seats Beringer had gestured to, George begins to thank the official, who waves him off and jumps right into questions.

“Okay, I really only have one question for you,” The man clasps his hands together and stares right at Dream, “Are you both committing fraud to prevent Mr. Henderson here from being deported back to England?”

Dream looks at him before looking at George, before looking back at the official.

“That’s ridiculous,” Georges chuckles, and Dream agrees while wringing his hands underneath the desk. This was becoming more difficult to pull off than just parading around an office and saying you’re getting married.

“Where did you hear that?” George asks, Dream has a slight suspicion of who, but doesn't voice it, instead he looks down and fiddles with his tie. 

“A tip came in this morning, whoever it should be is besides the poin-”

“Was it Bob Spaulding?” George’s voice was dripping with tangible irritation, and Dream nearly feels bad for Bob, “If it was, you don't have to worry about the accusation, I fired him this morning, he is merely just upset and trying to get back at me.”   
  
The official raises an eyebrow, before turning back to the folder and continues talking, “Do you have any idea how this works? Or do I have to explain for you?”

Dream looks at George catching his eye for a quick second before turning back to Beringer, “Uhhh,”

“Ill take that as a no, okay here's what’s going to happen, you’re each going to have an interview with me. Separated, I'll ask you each questions, get one wrong or if your story doesn't match up then guess what?”

There's a pause, Dream is not liking this anymore than when George had first proposed the idea, and he was seriously considering just telling the truth, screw George. Why did he care so much for a man that couldn't spare him a sidewards glance, it was stupid and reckless and if Dream and George got caught… who knew how much jail time he would do.

Apparently Beringer knew, “If I find out that you are in fact lying, after I’ve gone through phone records, and I've talked to some close friends of yours, then you young man,” He points at George, who gulps, “Will be deported indefinitely, and you, Clay Wilson, will be faced with a two-hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine and five years in federal prison for committing a federal crime.”

Dream bounces his leg, and wipes the sweat off his palms, Beringer asks him if he wants to talk privately, and he’s faced with an impossible dilemma. One, betray George, tell the truth and get out of being put in jail. Or two, follow along with George, get caught, be put in jail. He seriously doesn't know what to do, he doesn't even like George, but his job and all of his dreams are on the line and he can't think clearly when the man next to him is staring at him intensively. 

He slowly shakes his head, and Beringer raises an eyebrow before moving on, talking them through some more technicalities about the legal processes, before he asks one more time, if Dream and George were sure about they’re decision. Dream is getting frustrated with the mans persistence of asking them the same questions countless of times, finally breaks and tells hims, “Listen… Mr. Beringer, I know that your busy, and that me and George are well, we weren't meant to fall in love,” Dream pauses, nearly physically gagging at the words tumbling out of his mouth, he was sure he didn't sound the near bit convincing, but the smirk on Georges face keeps him going, “I- We couldn't tell anyone at work, because I have a big promotion coming up-”

“Promotion?” Beringer interrupts and George shoots him a glare, but Dream ignores it before he continues.

“Yes I was supposed to be promoted, but uhm- well, I guess we- we felt it was inappropriate to announce that we were, ha, you know...” Dream tapers off and George mutters ‘bullshit promotion’ under his breath, which he thinks he isn't meant to catch, and Beringer clears his throat. 

“Have you told your parents of your-ah, secret love?”

George laughs, “Actually that's, I- it's impossible, they're dead, both of them,” he shrugs and Dream feels a small bundle of something squirm in his stomach, “No brothers or sisters either, so-”

Dream looks down, feeling a pang of guilt at not realizing George was so, he didn't know how to put it…  _ alone. _

‘Who am I to care? This man has been a pain in my ass since the day I started working for him.’ his mind argues, but he’s always been too empathetic for his own liking, and he cant help but feel bad for George.

Mr. Beringer leans back, and he looks at Dream, “What, are your parents dead too?”

Both Dream and George jump to answer that they are not, in fact, dead, and George jumps in before Dream could say anything, “Yeah, we were actually planning on telling them this weekend, its grandmas 90th birthday! So thought it would be a great time to do so.” 

Dream’s brain short circuits, it was not in his plans to tell his family about is little endeavor especially not when there were so many things he hadn't told them, the main one being his sexuality, and secondly that he’s faking being engaged to his boss.

“Hm, really?” Beringer hums, and George nods, “Where is this, event taking place?”

“Oh uh! Yes it's at his parents house, uhm-” he looks at Dream and elbows him, “Why am I doing all the talking? Feel free to jump in, preferably sooner than later.” George smiles.

“Stika.” Dream answers, and George relays it before smiling awkwardly at Beringer, “Alaska.”

“Alaska!” George yelps in surprise before quickly recovering, “I mean, yeah of course alaska, his parents live in alaska, I know that.”

Dream grimaces, and hopes that this entire scheme doesn’t burn on the plane ride there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you wanna talk or just interact with me follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/georgIvr) !!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George go to alaska, and try not to kill each other while theyre at it. Oh and did i mention theres a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuh here we go chapter 3

When Beringer excuses them, Dream and George walk out and George parades out of the office as if he hadn't thought a bit about what Beringer said.

“Okay, here’s what we are gonna do, we’re gonna fly up there meet your parents, pretend we’re boyfriends, announce we’re engaged, and fly back in time for the meeting with Beringer on Monday. I’ll be gracious and buy us first class tickets, but make sure to get the miles when we fly.”

“Im sorry, did you not listen to what Beringer just told us?” Dream turns to look at George, who stops abruptly and looks at him with wide eyes.

“What? What?” George shakes his head and Dream scoffs, of course he didnt give a ratsass about the consequences, Dream sets his jaw, before George jumps up, “Oh! Oh! About the promotion? Genius, Dream I think he fell for it-”

“I’m serious.” Dream cuts him off and George falters, “I’m facing a Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and five years in federal prison, things are gonna change about our little deal.” Dream gestures to the both of them and George furrows his eyebrows as he crosses his arms.

“What, promote you to editor? No, no way.” George answers, pulling out his phone and scrolling through whatever it is he deems so much more important that Dream.

“Then I’ll quit, and you’re screwed, bye bye Georgie!” Dream sneers, turning on his heel and walking down the bustling New York avenue, “It’s been a real pleasure! Hope everything works out for-”

“Fine! Fine I’ll promote you,” George grumbles, “But you have to do the Alaska weekend, and the immigration interview.” 

Dream knows that George has something up his sleeve if his demands are so little, he takes a couple of steps forward, “Not in a couple of years but right after, And i want you to publish my manuscript, twenty thousand copies first run.” 

George frowns, looks at his phone, before muttering a short ‘Fine’ and Dream looks at him, “Now, ask me nicely.”

To this George stalls, he looks up at him and Dream didnt back down, he wanted George to know who was really in control of their stupid little engagement, and if George was going to act like a brat about it, he’d put him in his place.

George sneers, “What? Ask you nicely what Clay-” He looks around, and Dream smiles.

“Ask me nicely to marry you, George.” Dream smiles, and George’s jaw drops, he stutters before asking what that meant, Dream laughs before replying, “You heard me, on your knees, propose to me.”

George looks around, his face flushes red, before he stares at Dream like he’s a lunatic. He shuffles a little more before finally, “Fine. I’ll propose.” He grumbles, voice dripping with sarcasm and Dream chuckles as he awkwardly begins to kneel.

George reaches out his hand, and Dream lets him grab his hand, before he slowly gets down on one knee. He looks up at Dream who has a smug look on his face, and mutters out a hushed proposal before dropping Dream’s hand.

“No. Say it like you mean it.” Dream patronizes, and George scoffs but quickly backtracks when he realizes Dream is being serious.

George clears his throat, “Clay,” Dream hums and looks at him, George goes on making sure that his voice sounded as tantalizing as he could, “Sweet, sweet Clay, will you… pretty please, marry me?”

“Mmm, that’s better,” Dream looks up as if contemplating, “Okay, I’ll do it. Meet you at the airport tomorrow.” he reaches out a hand as if to help George up, put quickly decides against it and turns around to walk back to his apartment, leaving George to stumble forward and pick himself up.

Getting back to his apartment, he receives an email from George confirming their plane tickets, and he starts packing for the weekend trip. He curses his parents for retiring to Alaska rather than staying in Florida, where he was born, as the flight was nearly twenty hours. After finishing, he talks to his neighbor about feeding Patches, and once he had finalized everything he relaxed on his couch and reviewed the shit show from today.

He not only was putting his life on the line for George, he was agreeing to pretending to be lovers with George, something he knew was going to be a bigger ordeal than George thinks. What was going to happen when they announce it, and they’re forced to do coupley things, like hold hands, kiss, and do romantic things. Dream could barely manage the time he spent with George as an assistant, let alone having to fake-date.

His concern wasn't them both being guys, he was comfortable with his sexuality and the idea of him being with a man wasn't what made him still, it was how his friends and family would react. His family hadn't been all that supportive of him moving to New York, let alone working for someone like George. 

He sighs, and rubs his face before sitting up and flicking the TV on, he wants to pass the time without thinking about George and his stuck up attitude, and his bratty demeanor, and especially not about how he’s ridiculously attractive. He stopped himself there, he did not find his boss pretty no matter what, it was inappropriate and sure to ruin him if George found out. Especially with their current… predicament.

After a couple of hours of mindless youtube videos, and news reports, he shuts off the TV and heads to bed, not anymore excited for his long plane ride tomorrow. As he’s sure it’s going to be the worst plane ride ever.

He was right about it being the worst plane ride ever, but to his surprise, it wasn't truly George’s fault, it was his strong cologne, it was his distant accent if Dream really paid attention to what he was saying, it was his pink flushed cheeks that drew Dreams attention no matter how much he wished he wasn't staring. It wasn't George’s fault, it was Dream’s easily swooning heart. 

He’s never stopped a train of thought faster than then. 

“Okay here's what the INS is going to ask us,” Dream flips open a booklet and thumbs through a couple more pages before settling on one and scanning the different material, “Great news George! I know everything about you, problem is I don't think you give a fuck about me so we have 2 days for you to memorize everything,” Dream tapers off, and George looks at the book, craning his neck enough to where Dream can feel his breath on his neck. 

George grabs the book out of Dream's hands, and Dream goes to grab it back but George has already flipped it open, “You know all this about me? That's a little creepy don't you think?”

Dream nods, “Yeah well, here we are.”

George hums, before reading a couple of questions off, “do I have any allergies?”

“You’re allergic to human emotion and peanuts.” Dream states, voice monotone as George laughs and mumbles something under his breath, which Dream doesn't quite catch.

“Oh! This is a good one, do I have any scars?” George looks at Dream, eyeing him as if challenging him.

“You have one just under your right hand, its small, barely noticeable,” Dream answers, turning over to George who is examining his right hand, “I don't know how you got it though.”

George blinks, “I got it riding my bike when I was younger, accidentally ran into a pole and scraped my hand.” Dream nods, as he watches George quietly flip through a couple more pages of the ridiculously long booklet.

“Hm, here we go, which house do we live at, yours or mine? That's easy, mine.”

“And why wouldn’t we live at my place?” Dream retorted, and George pressed his lips together before responding.

“Well because I live at Central Park West, and you probably live in some shitty studio apartment.” He explains, as if it's ever that simple, and Dream nearly punches the man right then and there. It was one thing to assume he had nothing better to do than to help him, as if he deserved is help, but it was completely different to assume he lived in something shitty area of New York with rats and roaches crawling around. 

The seatbelt indicator blinks on, and a flight attendant announces that they’re plane is starting their descent to Juneau, Dream clicks his together and George’s face pinches together, an unasked question on his lips. 

“What?” Dream hisses and George glares at him, “I thought we were going to Sitka?”

“We are.” Dream replies.

“Well, why are we landing in Juneau, that isn't Sitka.”

“There's two stops, we’re moving to another plane that’ll take us to Sitka.”

The other plane in question was much smaller, much more cramped, and definitely hit a lot more turbulence than the last one. George was gripping the front of his seat and grumbling non stop about the quality of their seats, and the plane ride in general, to which Dream rolls his eyes and continues reading the magazine in his hands.

Luckily for George, the plane ride was only about 2 hours, and they were landing before they knew it, unloading and making their way to the pick up area.

Once they reached the designated boardwalk, Dream hears a particularly loud “Clay!” from somewhere and looking around he spots his mom and grandma waiting with a big sign that says “Welcome home Clay!” he smiles, although a little embarrassed at George seeing it, and runs forward and envelops his mom in a crushing hug.

He can hear his grandmother greeting him, and sees George walk up awkwardly out of the corner of his eye. He lets go of his mom and gives his grandma a quick hug, once he lets go he waves over George who smiles and walks up to the group.

“Is this your boy?” Dreams grandma asks, and Dream sees George go red in the face before answering that he was, “Oh how wonderful! Welcome to the family…” his grandma extends her hand, and George takes it and gives it a gentle shake, “George, its George.” 

“Well Gran, we should head back to the house, have you guys got your suitcases?”

Dream nods, and points to the luggage they had dropped, “yeah, got it right here.” he laughs, and his parents turn and make their way to the car.

Half way through his grandma speaks up, “So George, do you like going by George or by Satan’s leftovers? We’ve heard it both ways.” and Dream wishes he could melt into the ground on the spot, why his grandma would ever ask that is unknown to him, but he had no idea what to say.

Thankfully his mom comes to the rescue, “She’s kidding,” they all laugh awkwardly, and Dream grips his suitcase even tighter waiting for George’s reaction, but all he does is chuckle and thank them for inviting him. He lets out a breath, and smiles at him before turning around and walking to the car.

Once they load the luggage into an old ford truck, and tumble into the vehicle, they make their way to a small town on the shore of Sitka, and Dream watches the scenery around, while George takes in his new surroundings.

The one thing George did notice, was that many of the small businesses have the same name on them, a name he recognizes, when they pass a Wilson’s Photography, Print and Post, General store, and Clothing boutique, he finally recognizes the name on the shops and looks down towards Dreams carry on, which has a small label with his full name on it.

_ Clay D. Wilson _

He looks over at Dream and tries to get his attention, after calling his name several times, he punches him in the arm, and Dream yelps before looking at him, “What?” Dream rubs his arm and George raises his eyebrows as he asks, “I didn't know about all the family businesses,  _ honey _ .” 

Dreams mouth opens and closes a couple of times, lost for words, he really didn't know how to explain to George his family was extremely wealthy, but before he could say anything his grandma was answering for him, “He was probably just being modest.”

The subject drops, as they turn onto a port and George scrunches his nose, he hadn’t seen the hotel they were supposed to be checking in, and now they were getting down at a seafront. He looks over at Dream and asks what they're doing, and if they should be checking into the hotel right now.

“Oh we cancelled your reservations!” Dreams mom answers, “Family doesn't stay in a hotel, they live in our home.” she clasps her hands and smiles, as Dream and George look at each other. Dream gulps, before smiling and following his mom and grandma, George tailing a couple steps behind. 

They bring all the luggage to the boat docked on the shore, Dream throws the suitcases down to his grandmother to load. 

Once the rest of the baggage is loaded in they get into the boat, George makes his way to the stairs to go down to the boat, but he stops.

“Im not getting on that boat.” George huffs.

“Okay, see you in three days.”

“You know I cant swim!” George scoffs, and Dream squints his eyes before replying, “That's why we have a boat. No come on, you’re taking too long.” 

George turns to climb down, but misses the second to last step, and before he could catch himself he’s falling backwards. “Oh shit!” he yells, before he's landing into a pair of arms, which he clings onto as if his life depends on it.

“You okay?” Dream asks, and he realizes it was Dream who caught him, mortified, he clambers out of his arms, straightening up and brushing himself off.

“Im fine.” George hisses, making his way to the boat, and Dream shakes his head before following.

Soon they're making their way across from the port at Sitka, to a more isolated plot of land across the bay area, a short boat ride later, they reach the house, and George balks.

It's a nice two story home, with nearly an acre plot of land, its alone on their little island, the only way to get to it is through a boat, and there's a dock with a boardwalk running from the shore to the top of the small hill its perched on top of. The house itself is huge, a big victorian styled home, it has a wrap around porch that leads to the front yard, and it extends farther outward from behind. 

They get out of the boat, and begin walking up the boardwalk, when George says, “Why did you tell me you were poor?”

“I never said I was poor,” Dream answers, and George elaborates, “You never told me you were rich either.”

“I'm not rich, my parents are.”

“That's what rich people say.” George sighs, and Dream smiles, only for his face to drop when he hears his name being called from the house.

“Uh, mom, what is this?” He asks, and his mom answers, “Oh it's a welcome home party!” as if it was simple. 

“Just a few of our close neighbors and friends, and they're all super excited to meet you George!” His grandmother continues, and Dream drops his head. 

George awkwardly smiles, and elbows Dream to get his attention, “What?” he demands, and George looks at him.

“Are you sure about this? We can still ask for a hotel room, take the boat back, not go to the party-”

“It’ll be fine, we go in pretend we’re engaged and then when everyone leaves we can go back to hating each other.” 

George frowns at his comment, but doesn’t argue, he turns and keeps walking. Dream follows and nervously chews at his lip. Once they enter the house they’re greeted with several different families saying hello, Dream introduces George to as many people as he can, and they congratulate him some more. He prays no one makes a remark about them both being guys, he really didn't know what to say to it if someone did. 

Unfortunately his luck didn't last, and someone he vaguely remembers comes up to him thirty minutes into the minor engagement, “Clay! It's been a while!” He clasps Dream into a hug, and pats his back a couple of times, “How have you been?”

“I've been good, ha ha, working in New York, the usual.”

“Still following that pipe dream of yours?” he says, and Dream grimaces a little before plastering a fake smile and laughing with the man he still can't name.

After a couple more minutes of small talk he finally puts a name to the face, Paul Storns, a man he had normally butt heads with in highschool. Paul looks at George, finally acknowledging his presence, and asks Dream, “So, who’s this?”

“This is actually my boyfriend, George say hi” 

George gives him a meek hello, and Paul’s face shifts from passive ignorance to disgust. Dream stomach drops, he knows what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“I didn't know you were gay.”

Dream winces, and George looks down in embarrassment, “yeah, well I didn't exactly need to tell you did I?” 

Paul sneers, “I used to respect you Clay, I know you made a lot of questionable choices but this,” he gestures to George and him, and Dream has to physically restrain himself, “This is just… it’s just wrong, two men? We weren't created to be like that.” 

“Well, if I had asked you what i thought of our relationship then maybe I'd be more inclined to listen to whatever bullshit you have to say about me and George. I love who I love, and if that bothers you, then you can leave. Because there is no way in god's good earth I will be giving him up to please a piece of shit like you.” Dream growls, clutching George's hand like a lifeline. Paul scoffs but turns on his heel and leaves, and Dream sighs, before rubbing his eyes.

“I'm sorry George, I lost my temper a bit there.” Dream apologizes, and George looks at him with a pained expression before looking away from him. Dream frowns, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you.” George whispers, and Dream barely hears it, but perks up at the words. 

“Uh, no problem, I mean. Yeah It's not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal.”

They look at each other, and Dream realises he’s still holding George’s hand, he lets it go, and George glances at it for a split second. 

“When are you going to break the news of the engagement?” George asks, and Dream squirms

“I'll do it how I want to do it.” 

“Fine, but-” George doesn't get to finish when another party guest is calling Dream's name.

“Clay! Oh it's been so long,” A woman walks up to the pair, and Dream smiles.

“Mrs. Matterson! It has, oh-” Dream grunts as Mrs. Matterson takes him into a hug, and when they let go, he shakes hands with Mr. Matterson.

Mrs. Matterson looks over at George, and smiles shyly, as Dream goes to introduce him, “This is George!”

“Oh George! We’ve heard so much about you already! Say, Clay I meant to ask, what's it like to be a book editor in New York?”

Dream opens his mouth to answer, when someone cuts him off, “I was going to ask, what exactly does a book editor do?” A man walks up to them, strikingly similar to Dream, tall well built, the man walks up to the group and gives a small smile to them.

“Dad, hey.” Dream shakes his hand, and his father looks at him before looking at George.

“Hey son.” He nods, “This must be Georgie.”

“George.” the latter corrects, and they shake hands. Amicably Dreams dad begins some small talk, something about writers Dream wasn't really paying too much attention, what does drag him back to the current conversation is his father addressing him.

“-he's not an editor, Clay’s just an editors assistant,” Dreams dad explains to the Matterson’s, “Georgie here is an editor.” 

“George.” he corrects, clearing his throat and Dream nudges him before Mr. Matterson speaks up.

“So you’re Clays boss?” He points to George, who nods, and they all hum in acknowledgment, as Dreams dad excuses himself under the guise to get a refill. Dream picks up on the subtle ‘Follow me’ and tails his dad into the adjacent room.

“Always knew you were great at first impressions,” Dream quips, as his father sets down his drink. He knows he’s toeing the line, but he’s never seen eye to eye with his dad, especially about his career choices. 

“Well, when you show up here with a man…” his father starts, and Dream’s stomach twists at dread of what his father is going to say, “a man you’ve hated, and announce he’s your boyfriend, I-”

“We just got here Dad!” Dream cuts off, and his father scoffs, “Can’t we last two minutes without going at each other’s necks?”

“I just didn't take you to be someone who sleeps his way to the middle.” 

Dream nearly sees red. He could handle his father not understanding his sexuality or judging him for it, but for him to assume he’d stoop so low as to sleep with someone to get to the top, to use them like that? It was disgusting, and as much as he tried to get along with his dad it was like he never bothered to listen to him.

“I’ll have you know that the man in that room is one of the most respected editors in our side of New York-”

“He’s your meal ticket.” His father spits, looking around the room. Dream stops himself from raising his voice, “and you brought him home to meet your mother.” 

“Noooo, nonono, he isn't my meal ticket, he’s my fiance.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> partys, flying dogs, and kisses, what a mess

“What’d you say?” his father asks, and Dream recoils at what he just said, definitely wasn't a good time, nor how he had wanted it to go down.

“Yeah, I’m getting married.” With that he leaves, and goes to look for George, who he sees is talking to the waiter his parents had hired.

“Hors d'oeuvres?" 

“Oh! No no I can’t, thank you though.'' George politely declines but the butler insists and he has to explain that the texture of the fish grosses him out.

Dream smiles, and amusedly watched from the side line as George continues to try to tell the butler no, the butler picks one up and all but shoves it into Georges mouth, who chokes, but eventually swallows and says thank you. He goes to take a drink, and Dream leaves him to go announce that they're engaged. 

When he does announce, he sees George spit out his drink onto the butler, and has to stop himself from laughing before continuing, “Yep! Uh, honey where are you? Where-” George peaks his head out from the doorframe, and Dream signals him over, “there you are!”

The room claps him in, and Dream thanks the room as George walks over to where Dream is standing, shuffling a little just too close. They smile, and he sees his mom bounce in glee, as some more family members and friends come in to see what the ruckus is about. 

Someone suggests champagne and before they know it glasses are shoved into their hands, they sip at it, until George breaks the comfortable silence, “So that was your idea of perfect timing?” 

Dream laughs, and takes another sip of his drink.

“Clay?” a voice asks, and Dream and George look over to see a girl walk up to them.

Dream smiles and pulls her into a hug, and George awkwardly watches from the sidelines, as the two amicably catch up. Finally the girl, realising their mistake, introduces herself, “Oh hi! I’m Mary, I’m well, I’m”

“My ex,” Dream finishes, and George’s eyes widen before he smiles and shakes her hand. 

Dream notices that George’s smile doesn't fully reach his eyes but chooses not to mention anything, it wasn't his place. He also thinks it wasn't a good idea to introduce his ex to his fake-fiance, but this was already such a shit show he didn't really think about it too much. 

“So! Did I miss the story?” Mary asks, and Dream looks at her, visibly confused. 

“Ohhh how a man proposes says a lot about them.” Dreams grandma butts in, and Dream was cursing out the gods for his terrible play of hands. George on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much. 

The whole room quieted down, and looked at Dream expectantly, he swallows before glancing at George, he meets his eyes as a shiver runs through his spine, he starts, “Okay, uh, well actually, George loves telling this story, so I think it's only fair he gets to tell hit.” He pats George on the back, who glares at him but plasters a smile on his face and jumps into a caravan of lies.

“Well, Clay actually, I mean- we were celebrating our first anniversary,” The audience coos, and George laughs, “And I knew that it was coming, he had been leaving hints here and there. But I didn't really know if he would actually propose, because he’s always been on the timid side, but-”

“It didn't exactly go that way.” Dream interrupts and he sends a look to George to get him to reel back on the passive aggressive jabs, but George ignores him as he goes on to describe some ridiculously unrealistic marriage proposal, that Dream wants to vomit at the idea of him doing something so far as to litter the ground with rose petals and candles. George keeps talking and Dream, embarrassed, covers his face with his hands. 

“And then, when I walked into this room, there he was. He’s sat in the middle of this beautiful room he had decorated with rose petals and candles, and-”

“And I asked him to marry me, he said yes, then end. Who's hungry?”

The crowd coos, and Dream leaves his chair. He’s absolutely mortified at the idea of his family and friends thinking he was some romantic himbo that proposes in a dramatic flair, and even worse, the way George had described it makes him seem like an emotional mess. He had agreed to help George, but the man wasn't making it easy, he hated how easily he had been convinced to help, and he was tempted about calling it off now. 

Unfortunately they only get thrown farther into the deep end of their sea full of lies, as one of his uncles or something asks for them to kiss.

“Come on, let the newly-engaged show us a kiss!” he shouts, and Dream’s face burns red, he looks at George and laughs awkwardly clutching his hand.

“Okay! Okay, I'll give him a kiss,” Dream chuckles, and raises George's hand to his lips, making a show of holding it up afterwards. 

“Nah, come on, give him a kiss on the lips!” The uncle complains, and Dream wants to wrangle him with his own bare hands when George shuffles next to him and mutters under his breath.

“Just do it really quick, no big deal.” 

If Dream knew any better he’d think George was hyping himself up more than him, but he agreed and leaned forward until they’re lips pressed together. And while there was no spark, no realisation for Dream, nothing that a small part of him had been expecting, he had to admit under better circumstances George was a good kisser.

_ What the fuck Dream? _

He pulls away, as George wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, but his family boos, and tells them to give each other a “real kiss”, whatever the hell that was. As much as the first time was nerve wracking for Dream, he couldn't help but feel his family was making George uncomfortable. Even then he couldn't explain his racing heart, and the part of him that he immediately shoved down, it was wrong and he was helping George, this is not for his own benefit.

George grabs Dream's hand and leads him into another kiss, this time angling his head so it's more realistic, but Dream squeezes his eyes as he realizes just how close he is to George. He can feel the heat radiating off the man, and can smell his cologne, a faint hint of sea spray. He’s still holding Georges hand and his other one, unsure of where to go, lightly rests on his hip. 

Dream thinks he’s enjoying it a little too much, but his heart doesn't let him think about it too much, as they break apart a couple of seconds later. His face flushes a light pink, which he hopes that George doesn't see, and his family applauds for them, before breaking back into smaller groups, conversations splitting into their own sects. 

Later once the party has calmed, and most people have made their departure, Dream's mom leads them to the room they would be staying in, and Dream curses when he realises that there's only one bed. The room they had rented at the hotel would have a pullout couch so they didn't run into this problem.

George compliments the room, and the beautiful view of the alaskan bay, as his grandmother shows them the smaller details. Dream, having been here before, simply pulls in their luggage, not bothering to unpack just yet, and watches amusedly how excited George gets at what his grandmother shows him, out of respect or actual interest. 

They get settled in, and their parents leave them to their own devices, to which Dream sghs relieved, but they're soon bombarded with a small white dog yipping at their ankles, and George freaks. 

“Oh my god! What the hell is that!” he shouts, kicking his feet at the dog, as it weaves around him sniffing at his toes, Dream laughs at Georges reaction, and he pouts as he continues to be berated by the dog. 

“Woah! Who is this?” Dream coos, picking up the small white ball of fur.

“That's Marvin, I'm so sorry George, we just rescued him from the pound so he’s still in training.”

“Make sure he doesnt get out! He’s small enough to where the eagles will snatch him away!” his grandma warns, and he nods as he scratches behind Marvin's ear.

“Alright gran, let's leave these two alone now. I'm sure they’re dying for some alone time,” His mom winks and Dream flushes red, letting Marvin drop onto the floor. His mom and grandma leave, and George grabs his pajamas and heads to the bathroom to change.

In the meanwhile, Dream grabs a blanket and pillow and lays them down on the ground, prepping for his makeshift bed. 

George walks out and notices Dream on the floor, he clears his throat, “You know, I’m not that mean.”

“What?” 

George walks past him to the bed, and throws open the comforter, before replying, “You don't have to sleep on the floor, I know you’re doing it out of my own comfort, but I don't mind.”

Dream looks at him, and carefully stands, slowly making his way over to the bed in case George changes his mind, but all he does is turn over and get comfortable. He sits down and flings the comforter open to crawl in, with calculated movements he gets laid down, but his body makes no attempts at sleeping.

George on the other hand is so restless Dream wouldn't be surprised if there was something crawling up his leg, he turns over and breaks the silence, “Why are you moving so much?”

“What? Have a problem with it? You can go sleep on the floor.” George retaliates, and Dream flinches, before he asks again.

“No, I mean is there something bothering you, I wanna help.”

“Oh…” George blinks, probably surprised at Dream's hospitality, but mutters something anyways.

“What was that? I couldn't hear you.” 

“The light, I forgot the sun never really sets here.” George grumbles, and Dream's brain clicks, of course it was still bright out, the sun beaming through the windows, Dream hadn't thought about it until now. He grabs a remote from the nightstand and presses a button, almost instantly the blinds swing closed and George coughs out a quick thank you before turning back over and closing his eyes. 

Dream sits down, but the heat was almost suffocating, whether its from himself or just the heating inside the house, regardless he could already feel the sweaty pooling at his neck. He wants to take his shirt off, but he isn’t sure what George would think, but the heat was unbearable. 

He decides to throw caution to the wind and sits up, quickly ripping the shirt off and goes to turn back around to lay down, but unknown to him, the shift had caused George to turn and look at what was causing the commotion, and when he had turned around all he had seen was Dream without a shirt on. 

He froze, and so does Dream, they make eye contact, and George’s face flushes an embarrassed red, before he scrambles to turn around, “What are you doing?” he hisses.

Dream was still in a state of shock, embarrassment or just surprise holding his body still, before he answers, “it was hot.”

“Fine whatever. Go to sleep already.”

Dream shrugs and lays back down, and falls asleep minutes later.

* * *

The next morning they’re woken up by a phone ringing, and George jolts, knowing it's probably Frank, he scrambles around trying to find his phone. He swings his hand through the nightstand next to him, but to no avail, the phone is from across the room. It's already rung at least twice, and if George missed the call he was sure to lose Frank as well. He chooses, rather than going around, to reach over Dream and check his nightstand.

“What are you doing?” Dream asks, voice still laced with sleep, and George quickly throws himself off of Dream, getting off the bed and walking around to search for his phone. 

“I'm looking for my phone, can you help me find it?” George pleads, and Dream groans.

“It's in your backpack, I think the front pocket.” Dream instructs, and George follows and grabs his phone before answering in a haste.

“Frank! Frank can you hear me?” George practically screams into the phone, and Dream musters out a ‘George!’ in protest, it was nearly 6 in the morning and George couldn't have been any louder if he tried.

“Sorry!” George apologizes and makes his way out to the front porch, trying to get a better signal to talk with Frank.

Finally, as he shoves some boots on, he makes his way to the backyard, hastily conversing with Frank who’s trying to back out from doing Oprah at all.

“Frank, I think it would be a mistake to back out,” George ties the robe he's wearing, and notices that Marvin had scampered out, yipping at his ankles he shushes the dog.

“Because, Frank, you've inspired so many people with what you’ve said…” He taylors off when he hears a loud hawk call, and looks around before he spots it, perched on a tree just boarding the property line. 

Marvin continues to bark, no matter how much George shushes him, and the hawk has decided to leave its little hiding spot, and George narrows his eyes as it flies towards him.

It takes him a couple more seconds to connect the dots, but before he could reach Marvin the hawk was diving, “Frank I need you to give me just a second,” he drops the phone and sprints for Marvin, but the hawk grabs him and flys off.

“GIMME THAT DOG!” George yells, he distinctly remembers grandma's warning, and throws his phone at the hawk, shouting more protests and tailing the bird as it circles overhead. 

Finally the hawk drops the dog, and George barely catches Marvin before he picks up his phone from where it landed.

“So sorry Frank, I dropped the phone, listen I really think you should think more about this, it's a great opportunity,” George starts heading back towards the house, worried seeing the hawk hasn't flown off, “call me when you have your answer.” he hangs up and ducks when the hawk makes a dive at this head, but the hawk flies off with his phone instead.

“No!” George groans, he needed his phone, he wouldn't survive without it, so in a desperate final attempt he throws up the dog again, but to no avail, the hawk was long gone.

“Great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the late update, i got grounded and then had to catch up on a ton of school work so i didnt have time to finish this chapter, and updates might slow a little more, although ill try to update at least once a week


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